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towerofanimus2013-05-10 08:13 am
destructiveprinciple) wrote in towerofanimus2013-05-10 08:13 am
☠ 003 | tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
Characters: Avenger and OPEN to all.
Setting: Dormitory levels, and then the first floor, the tenth floor, and the hundred and one floor.
Format: Preference for action spam.
Summary: Backdated aftermath from last month's event along with an open log for this month.
Warnings: There... is... Angra Mainyu in this post? Fair warning?
[ SCENARIO A || DORM LEVELS: CLOSED TO SABER OF WHITE (backdated to directly after the event) ]
[ Saber hadn't turned up for breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner.
She hadn't attended their sparring sessions for two days in a row now either. It was troubling to Shirou; while he had not crossed paths with her during the entire mess himself, all of the other residents who had been victimized by the administration's operations and brainwashing been restored to their normal selves. So, surely she had been no exception to this small kindness. Yet, try as he might to be patient and wait it out by reasoning to himself that the Servant had much more pressing matters to attend to than personally visiting a former Masters of hers, he'd cracked after one day and attempted to seek her out.
He'd failed to find her, of course. Miserably. (No surprise, a voice in the back of his head taunted him. You couldn't even save a single person when they were suffering right front of you, and you expect to able to fulfill a simple task like locating Saber when she clearly doesn't want to be found? Don't make me laugh. Shut up. Shut up.) He'd gone and done something stupid like die when Rin had died for him to stay safe from a maddened Archer. Stupid moron. He wasn't going to sit back and just leave Saber to her own devices.
Not that failure had discouraged him. If diligently looking floor by floor on foot would be fruitless, Shirou would resort to more under-handed measures. Like cooking some pastries, putting them in a basket and setting out for Saber's room several days later. The restaurant on the twenty-first floor had been a pain to bargain with for the high quality ingredients he had wanted, and the tasks that had given to him as a method of payment were just as grueling, but Shirou felt little annoyance in accomplishing them. It was an unimportant detail compared to the results.
If Saber was injured or didn't wish to speak to him, at least he'd be able to feed her before making himself scarce or... Finding somebody to fix her injuries. Unless she wasn't hurt at all. Which would be great, really it would. He didn't want her to be harmed.
Shaking his head to cut off the mental babbling, Shirou raised his fist and knocked politely on the room's door. ]
[ SCENARIO B || FLOOR 1: CAFETERIA ]
[ Now, the person busily cooking his feelings about injustice and being unable to fix all the problems in front of him and confusion regarding emotions, in the kitchen is probably a terribly familiar face to whose who frequent the cafeteria regularly.
As reliable as clockwork, the teenager comes in very early in the morning to place the food inside the oversized oven to be baked and then removes it from the oven to transfer the food to clean plates, before taking the neatly ranged dishes out in the cafeteria for any resident to eat as per the job the administration had assigned to him.
Once that was done, it was back to the kitchens to cook even more, and that is what brings us to our current state of affairs: Emiya Shirou engaging in one of his favorite hobbies—cooking in times of crisis. And rather oblivious to any possible incoming threats of being talked at, and bothered by other people. He was actually much more pleased with the wider range of ingredients available this month, and honestly didn't mind the persistent flower theme that came with it. It had definably won the administrator in charge of this month—Riki—points in his book. ]
[ SCENARIO C || FLOOR 10: AQUARIUM ]
[ Angra has strange ways of amusing himself to pass the time. Such as going down to the futuristic aquarium in the middle of the night, wandering away from the post he normally took beside his Master's dormitory, and playing with the fish.
The glassless tanks of water suspended in place contain a countless, teeming multitude of fish, all darting to and fro or drifting lazily through the blue, and caustic light dappled the ground and the black figure of the Servant in rippling patterns. Schools of the fish swirled and dove in unison, faint light glimmering off their scale. Down further, it was possible to make out the distant blue shapes of larger marine creatures. A shark swam past, its mouth of sharp and jagged teeth visible.
He dipped his arm into the horizontal surface of the water, dozens of bubbles flying upward inside, and after several patient attempts, snagged a small fish. Pulling his dripping wet arm out of the aquarium, he inspected the fish that wiggled and squirmed in his grip, the curved lines of the gills flaring pointlessly for oxygen, and considered gutting it. A few drops of water dripped down onto the floor.
Sometimes he would only let them rapidly suffocate from their removal out of the water, doing nothing until they perished. Another option was he'd pull them apart and rip them into two and three and four before tossing the bloody bits back into the aquarium so the carnivorous fish could have an easy meal.
Or there were times when Angra just held the fish for a few seconds before sticking his arm back into the aquarium and releasing it unharmed into its proper environment. ]
[ SCENARIO D || FLOOR 101: GARDENS ]
[ —The surroundings around him were a verdant paradise; hundreds of pots of plants, thriving green gardens, trees coated in vines, and thousands of kinds of vegetation that broke over the edges of the floor and spilled onto the others below and above it. The hanging gardens were a floor rarely visited and he had assumed he would achieve a small measure of solitude here for awhile to be alone and be lazy.
And Angra is seated crosslegged in one of the more obscure spots, engaging in an activity that would likely surprise anybody who knew of him.
Reading.
He was reading a strange packet of papers bound tightly by a worn cover; if somebody got close enough to look, it becomes even stranger given that text is constantly appearing on the yellowed pages and scrolling across the paper of its own volition like an automatic typewrite that was operating itself without the hands of a person to type in a message. The words are in an old dialect and untranslated.
We suppose you can try to start up a conversation. Or something. ]
[ SCENARIO E || ANYWHERE IN THE TOWER: YOUR PICK]
[ Generally, Angra wanders through an assortment of floors at night and shows little concern for which ones he ends up on as long as they are neither overly threatening or extreme. It's possible to find him sitting on tombstones in the cemetery staring at the fabrication of the skies on one floor, slinking through the sandy caverns on another floor, or walking over the farmland on one of the lower floors. And elsewhere.
'Shirou' is much more easy to run into during the day, tinkering with dented toasters in the workshop, hanging out in the media room, or obsessively patrolling the hallways and floors of the Towers as normal. ]
Setting: Dormitory levels, and then the first floor, the tenth floor, and the hundred and one floor.
Format: Preference for action spam.
Summary: Backdated aftermath from last month's event along with an open log for this month.
Warnings: There... is... Angra Mainyu in this post? Fair warning?
[ SCENARIO A || DORM LEVELS: CLOSED TO SABER OF WHITE (backdated to directly after the event) ]
[ Saber hadn't turned up for breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner.
She hadn't attended their sparring sessions for two days in a row now either. It was troubling to Shirou; while he had not crossed paths with her during the entire mess himself, all of the other residents who had been victimized by the administration's operations and brainwashing been restored to their normal selves. So, surely she had been no exception to this small kindness. Yet, try as he might to be patient and wait it out by reasoning to himself that the Servant had much more pressing matters to attend to than personally visiting a former Masters of hers, he'd cracked after one day and attempted to seek her out.
He'd failed to find her, of course. Miserably. (No surprise, a voice in the back of his head taunted him. You couldn't even save a single person when they were suffering right front of you, and you expect to able to fulfill a simple task like locating Saber when she clearly doesn't want to be found? Don't make me laugh. Shut up. Shut up.) He'd gone and done something stupid like die when Rin had died for him to stay safe from a maddened Archer. Stupid moron. He wasn't going to sit back and just leave Saber to her own devices.
Not that failure had discouraged him. If diligently looking floor by floor on foot would be fruitless, Shirou would resort to more under-handed measures. Like cooking some pastries, putting them in a basket and setting out for Saber's room several days later. The restaurant on the twenty-first floor had been a pain to bargain with for the high quality ingredients he had wanted, and the tasks that had given to him as a method of payment were just as grueling, but Shirou felt little annoyance in accomplishing them. It was an unimportant detail compared to the results.
If Saber was injured or didn't wish to speak to him, at least he'd be able to feed her before making himself scarce or... Finding somebody to fix her injuries. Unless she wasn't hurt at all. Which would be great, really it would. He didn't want her to be harmed.
Shaking his head to cut off the mental babbling, Shirou raised his fist and knocked politely on the room's door. ]
[ SCENARIO B || FLOOR 1: CAFETERIA ]
[ Now, the person busily cooking his feelings about injustice and being unable to fix all the problems in front of him and confusion regarding emotions, in the kitchen is probably a terribly familiar face to whose who frequent the cafeteria regularly.
As reliable as clockwork, the teenager comes in very early in the morning to place the food inside the oversized oven to be baked and then removes it from the oven to transfer the food to clean plates, before taking the neatly ranged dishes out in the cafeteria for any resident to eat as per the job the administration had assigned to him.
Once that was done, it was back to the kitchens to cook even more, and that is what brings us to our current state of affairs: Emiya Shirou engaging in one of his favorite hobbies—cooking in times of crisis. And rather oblivious to any possible incoming threats of being talked at, and bothered by other people. He was actually much more pleased with the wider range of ingredients available this month, and honestly didn't mind the persistent flower theme that came with it. It had definably won the administrator in charge of this month—Riki—points in his book. ]
[ SCENARIO C || FLOOR 10: AQUARIUM ]
[ Angra has strange ways of amusing himself to pass the time. Such as going down to the futuristic aquarium in the middle of the night, wandering away from the post he normally took beside his Master's dormitory, and playing with the fish.
The glassless tanks of water suspended in place contain a countless, teeming multitude of fish, all darting to and fro or drifting lazily through the blue, and caustic light dappled the ground and the black figure of the Servant in rippling patterns. Schools of the fish swirled and dove in unison, faint light glimmering off their scale. Down further, it was possible to make out the distant blue shapes of larger marine creatures. A shark swam past, its mouth of sharp and jagged teeth visible.
He dipped his arm into the horizontal surface of the water, dozens of bubbles flying upward inside, and after several patient attempts, snagged a small fish. Pulling his dripping wet arm out of the aquarium, he inspected the fish that wiggled and squirmed in his grip, the curved lines of the gills flaring pointlessly for oxygen, and considered gutting it. A few drops of water dripped down onto the floor.
Sometimes he would only let them rapidly suffocate from their removal out of the water, doing nothing until they perished. Another option was he'd pull them apart and rip them into two and three and four before tossing the bloody bits back into the aquarium so the carnivorous fish could have an easy meal.
Or there were times when Angra just held the fish for a few seconds before sticking his arm back into the aquarium and releasing it unharmed into its proper environment. ]
[ SCENARIO D || FLOOR 101: GARDENS ]
[ —The surroundings around him were a verdant paradise; hundreds of pots of plants, thriving green gardens, trees coated in vines, and thousands of kinds of vegetation that broke over the edges of the floor and spilled onto the others below and above it. The hanging gardens were a floor rarely visited and he had assumed he would achieve a small measure of solitude here for awhile to be alone and be lazy.
And Angra is seated crosslegged in one of the more obscure spots, engaging in an activity that would likely surprise anybody who knew of him.
Reading.
He was reading a strange packet of papers bound tightly by a worn cover; if somebody got close enough to look, it becomes even stranger given that text is constantly appearing on the yellowed pages and scrolling across the paper of its own volition like an automatic typewrite that was operating itself without the hands of a person to type in a message. The words are in an old dialect and untranslated.
We suppose you can try to start up a conversation. Or something. ]
[ SCENARIO E || ANYWHERE IN THE TOWER: YOUR PICK]
[ Generally, Angra wanders through an assortment of floors at night and shows little concern for which ones he ends up on as long as they are neither overly threatening or extreme. It's possible to find him sitting on tombstones in the cemetery staring at the fabrication of the skies on one floor, slinking through the sandy caverns on another floor, or walking over the farmland on one of the lower floors. And elsewhere.
'Shirou' is much more easy to run into during the day, tinkering with dented toasters in the workshop, hanging out in the media room, or obsessively patrolling the hallways and floors of the Towers as normal. ]
ALL THE LATE TAGS.
I-I'd be... eating your food, wouldn't I?
[ Despite his reassurance that she's not wasting her time, he seems to be busy, or at least... he seems to be cooking for someone else. To eat that person's food would be unthinkable for her, it would be a crime. ]
YEP.
That's sort of the point of food, to be eaten?
[ He wasn't planning on cooking for anybody in particular. (He'd already fed Saber, whose stomach ought to be full for awhile. Until the next mealtime, at least.) Shirou was tasked with laying out the trays as his Tower-assigned job, which he did but cooking was an old hobby. It was enjoyable to make himself of use to others. ]
no subject
[ What she means to say is that if he promised someone else food, it wouldn't be right for her to eat that,. But in the midst of her statement she realizes that it could be interpreted as her asking him to cook for him and that's also unthinkable for her.
So Madoka stumbles, fiddling with her thumbs and trying to gather her thoughts into a slightly more coherent statement. It might take a while. You'd be better off putting that plate in front of her if you want her to eat it.]
no subject
Look at this well-intentioned, kind obliviousness. :D ]
No, really! I make food for people to eat it. [ He then gestures at the rest of the cafeteria and suggested, not in any way wanting her to feel as if he was pressuring her into eating; ] If you're not hungry and uh, feel full after you're done with your bowl of oatmeal, just hand it off to somebody else.
no subject
Why would anyone insist on offering her food if they weren't trying to be friendly? This tower isn't the best place for anything like kidnapping or crimes... right? She doesn't know if this man has any stranger powers than just appearing human. ]
U-um, T-thank you, s-sir. I-I'll be sure to enjoy it.
[ It smells really nice, too. ]
no subject
He smiles at her, a little awkward but indeed quite friendly and really just wanting to help her out if he could, even in a small way. Stranger or not, it was a normal impulse for him. Help everybody, help everybody! ]
You're welcome, though there's no need for the 'sir' stuff. Hope you like it!
[ And then he turns to continue with his Tower-assigned job. If he works steadily, he should get finished before the morning's over. ]
no subject
She did promise him she'd enjoy it, though, she shouldn't break a promise. It's making her feel extremely guilty, but she starts spooning whatever it is into her mouth slowly. ]